The Masked Mallard
by MaskedKitten
Summary: *On hold* Donald wants the boys back while Scrooge is faced with his own mortality -& FOWL when it makes a move for his fortune. Scrooge reaches a decision that may cost him more than his money -it may cost him his soul. A crossover with Darkwing Duck.
1. After the Ball

**Rating:** It starts off PG, but the rating will become PG 13 as the story develops, and it might even push that occasionally.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own DuckTales, Darkwing Duck, Quack Pack, or any of the familiar characters in this story. They all belong to Disney. I only own Viktor Crow, Bill Avian, and a handful of other very minor OCs.

**Timeline:** Takes place during early Darkwing Duck, and maybe about one year after the DuckTales series.

**Featured Characters:** Scrooge, Huey, Dewey, Louie, Donald, Daisy, Darkwing, Launchpad, Gizmoduck, Glomgold, F.O.W.L, Hooter, and more. There will even be a cameo or two of one shot characters from DuckTales and Darkwing.

**Author's Note:** My goal with this story was to combine the adventure of DuckTales, the criminal action of Darkwing Duck, and the drama of The Life & Times of Scrooge McDuck (Don Rosa version) and create my own little epic crossover that I've always wanted to see between the shows since they originally aired - though this storyline is a little bit more extreme and more serious than what I would have come up with as a kid. ;) This is mostly a DuckTales fiction. I'm not a Quack Pack fan, but my version of Daisy might be a bit inspired by QP, and Donald's job is. This story is tentatively divided into three parts.

I realize the timelines between DuckTales & Don Rosa's L&ToSM don't actually match, but this story assumes they do in one aspect - the Klondike sections of the Life & Times and its companion (King of the Klondike, Hearts of the Yukon, The Prisoner of White Agony Creek, Last Sled to Dawson, Back to the Klondike). I use those rather than the 'Back to the Klondike' or "Once Upon a Dime" episodes of DuckTales. You don't have to be familiar with Rosa's work to enjoy the story, but it might add a little something if you are.

Please read and review and let me know what you think! I've had this particular story in my head for well over a year, but I'm picking up the pen again (so to speak) after a writing absence.

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**The Masked Mallard**

**Part One: _After the Ball

* * *

_**

**Prologue**

_All good things come to an end. All those who live eventually die. It is inevitable, caused by the passage of time. There is no stopping it, no delaying it….and yet, what happens if it is delayed? If time reverses for a single individual, what happens to that individual as the world around him continues to move forward? What becomes of the one on the brink of death that is given a second chance at life?_

_And if there is a shadow that follows him, a shadow that captures him, will he be swallowed up by that shadow? _

_Or will he become it?………

* * *

_

Scrooge McDuck was cold.

It wasn't the snow beneath his feet or the biting wind that assaulted him from every direction - it came from within him.

For years it had been buried as deeply as his old trunk in the vault of his money bin back in Duckburg, locked away, only to be dredged up when the memories became too strong to bear.

She was the key. And now the key was gone; s_he_ was gone, and it would be forever left open. Forever there in his head, haunting him with her song of days long passed. Wasted seconds, minutes, hours, days, months….

_Years. _So many years.

All of his hard work, all of his success…. She was the one treasure that he'd held in his hand only for it to fall from his grasp. He'd _let_ it fall. He'd let her go, expecting her to always be there; the Star of the North, always shining brightly in the midnight sky.

Seven days ago, that star had gone out. Goldie O'Gilt was dead. The letter that had come from the Frostbit Arms, the hotel that had once been the Blackjack Ballroom, had been addressed to him, and inside he'd found a letter from an employee of Goldie's that he'd never met. She'd taken ill and died suddenly. Just like that, his Star of the North had was lost to him. Forever.

His bones ached. He tightened his grip on his cane to remain balanced; he found he needed it these days. No longer was the cane a decoration, now it was a necessity. After being oblivious to his age for so long, the reality of it was weighing down on Scrooge, heavier than all of his precious money in his bin in Duckburg.

Time had caught up to Goldie, and time was watching him; a shadow that lingered behind him, ever lengthening, ever edging closer to him. One day it would reach him, as surely as it would reach Soapy Slick, whom he'd run into in town the day he'd arrived. The face of his old enemy had appeared to age a century in the short few years since Scrooge had last seen him - when he returned to White Agony Creek for the sled he'd lost years ago. His face had been lined then, his black hair turned gray, but he'd still doggedly pursued Scrooge, determined to take the contents of the sled because he'd assumed them to be gold. Now, however, he was stooped over, held up only by a cane of his own, and his face was withered and sagging.

Soapy had looked fragile….fragile and old. Did Scrooge look the same? Was that how he appeared to his nephews?

His nephews.… He had been given a second chance with them. His parents, his sisters, and now Goldie…they were all gone, but he still had Huey, Dewey, and Louie. And Webby. And of course, there was Donald.

Time had provided him with a new family, but on days like this one, he wondered how much of it he had left with them. Age hadn't meant anything to him in these recent years, especially once Donald had dropped the boys into his life. Adventure after adventure kept him separate from his physical years; his enjoyment of having family to share in his ongoing search for treasures and wealth distracting him from his own mortality.

Mrs. Beakley's passing a month earlier had brought reality down upon him with the force of a crashing stock market, and the sudden, agonizing news of Goldie following her only served to deepen the blow it had dealt him.

For all of the astounding things he'd accomplished, for every piece of gold and treasure that he'd uncovered, for all the money that he'd earned, Scrooge McDuck had never gained immortality. And he never would. He hoped and believed that he would be remembered by his nephews and Webby, and that his story would not be forgotten like the Klondike gold rush that had given him his first million years ago.

And maybe when his time reached an end, Goldie would be there waiting for him. And in the next world, if one existed, it wouldn't be as futile as it had been here. He would go to her.

He would go to her like he never had in life.

Pulling his coat more tightly around him, Scrooge leaned heavily on his cane as he turned away from the familiar cabin in White Agony Valley and made his way across the snow covered landscape. Alone.


	2. In the Beginning

-1**Author's Note: **This takes place about 4 months after the prologue.

* * *

**Chapter 1: _In the Beginning_**

* * *

Daisy Duck cringed from where she sat in the driver's seat of her car, watching the feathers fly as Filler Brushbill presented Donald with piles upon piles of Quackerware. There were so many Quackerware sets that she could barely see the front lawn of her boyfriend's new house at this point. Donald had his arms folded and was grumbling to himself and stamping his foot in anger while Brushbill furiously punched the prices into his calculator to give Donald the bill and hurry off before the hapless duck could change his mind.

Filler Brushbill was Duckburg's very own "super duper salesman", and if one wanted to keep their money in their bank account, it was wise not to open the door when he came knocking. But Brushbill wasn't called a super duper salesman for nothing - he could sell anything to anyone in record time, even to Donald's uncle, Scrooge; a true testament to his amazing ability if there ever was one.

Knowing Brushbill's reputation, Daisy had kissed Donald quickly when she'd seen Brushbill coming up the street and hurried off to her car, determined to avoid hearing about great deals on summer dresses, flowery perfume, stationary sets, and other assorted things that she didn't need, but could be tempted into buying.

Daisy started the car and put it into drive, glancing one more time at Donald before pulling out into the street. Quackerware wasn't all that Donald had gotten from Brushbill. She'd noticed belatedly what appeared to be toys and games on the left side of the lawn and wondered why Donald would buy those. She was sure they were for the boys, but it wasn't their birthday and Christmas was months away.

Donald seemed to want to pick up right where he left off when it came to the triplets, as if the time he'd been away had only amounted to days instead of years. He'd taken them out every weekend without fail for the past month. Sometimes he even picked them up from school during the week to see a movie or go to the park. Life in the navy hadn't changed him much, it hadn't even improved his temper. His feathers were still ruffled easily. No doubt he was in a 'fine' mood right now, reading Brushbill's receipt and carrying all that Quackerware into the house to place in a kitchen that was too small to store it in.

He'd gotten a job as a cameraman at Duckburg Daily, the local 'news' show that aired every morning during the week. The host - and Donald's boss - Bill Avian, was a tall, handsome duck that was always searching for stories that would give him the television glory he so desired. Daisy had spoken to him a few times, and while a couple of her friends would give anything to go out on just one date with him, Daisy wasn't impressed. He was too conceited for her taste.

Her relationship with Donald had slowed to a near stop while he was in the navy. They had just begun to go out again. If she had a dime for every time that one of her friends had asked her why she was still with him, she might have been as rich as Flintheart Glomgold, if not Scrooge. They said that she was foolish staying so long with someone who wouldn't make that final commitment to her. Her closest friend, Gandra Dee, advised her to pay no attention to them as long as she was happy.

Was she happy? Daisy thought she was. She'd been with Donald for so long that it felt like they were married, even though they actually weren't. She and Donald had their fights, but that was normal. There was no real fire to their relationship, just a comforting familiarity, but that wasn't a bad thing, was it? And it was to be expected, given how long they had been a couple. Still, every once and a while, she found herself envying Gandra and Fenton and their newly discovered feelings for each other.

Daisy sighed and turned onto the road that would lead her to Scrooge's mansion. She'd been staying in one of the many guest bedrooms for the past two months. Earlier in the year Scrooge's housekeeper, Mrs. Beakley, has passed away, leaving the boys and her granddaughter without a nanny. Daisy had just quit her job and had been looking for something new. To her chagrin, Donald had volunteered her to help with the boys until Scrooge found someone to replace Mrs. Beakley, and once she'd met Webbigail Vanderquack, she'd been unable to say no. The little girl had immediately attached herself to Daisy's side.

Finding a new nanny was proving to be a difficult task, and so far no one had been hired. Daisy knew it came down to a few things for Scrooge: cost, finding someone Webby and the boys would accept, and cost: Scrooge was nothing if not determined when it came to saving money. Daisy knew that Mrs. Beakley had taken the job for room and board for herself and Webby rather than for cash, and that Scrooge probably hadn't paid her much more than a cent.

Back when Donald had first informed her that he wanted to join the navy, "What about your nephews?" had been the first thing she'd asked him. "You can't just abandon three children!" she'd exclaimed, more than a little upset at him for being so absent minded - and for making a decision that would keep him not only from the boys, but from her, as well.

When he'd announced that he planned to leave the triplets with Scrooge, Daisy had had so many misgivings.

She remembered her reaction very distinctly: "Donald, he'll neglect them. You're always telling me how busy he is and how obsessive he is about his money. He's not capable of caring for them. He can _provide_ for them, if he'll even be willing to do that, but _caring_ for them…. Have you thought this through at all?"

Donald had shrugged and said that he trusted his uncle, 'old skinflint' that he was, to be able to handle it. After realizing that he had his mind made up, Daisy had given up trying to argue with him and accepted his decision to leave her and the boys behind, and instead hoped for the best. Donald had shipped out, she was left to her own devices, Scrooge became the boys' guardian, and Daisy had been sure that they would be sent off to a distant -and cheap - boarding school within a month.

Boarding school had never happened. Donald had left the boys to join the navy because he'd wanted to see the world, but Daisy knew the boys had seen much more of the world than Donald had aboard a naval ship. Scrooge had taken them on adventure after adventure in search of gold and treasure and new business deals that would enhance his wealth. Sometimes, when the boys were bored, they would tell her about their trips, describing in great detail the danger and excitement. At first she'd thought (and hoped) they were exaggerating, but a few casual mentions to Scrooge about their stories proved them to be accurate.

Daisy gave a quick glance at the clock on the dashboard; the boys would be getting out of school soon.

When she reached the mansion, Duckworth opened the door for her with a polite, "Good afternoon, Miss Duck," and returned to where the vacuum stood in the middle of the foyer. She'd been trying ever since she moved in to get him to call her Daisy, but he was still as stiffly formal as ever.

She found Webby in her bedroom, arranging her dolls around a table filled with tiny plastic teacups.

"Hi, Daisy!"

Webby's smile wasn't as bright as it could be, but Daisy was just grateful to see the girl's smile at all. Losing her grandmother had been so hard on her, and though Daisy had been looking after all of them, she worried about Webby the most.

"Hey, Webby." She went into the room and knelt down next to her. "Want to go with me to get the boys from school?"

Webby nodded and reached for her quackypatch doll. Daisy took her other hand and the two of them made their way back down the stairs and out to Daisy's car. Once Webby was seated beside her she got the car started and turned on the radio.

"_Is St. Canard big enough for both Darkwing Duck _and _Gizmoduck, Duckburg's very own hero? _I _think-"_

Daisy rolled her eyes and changed the station. If there was one duck she couldn't tolerate, it was DT103's Quentin Quackers. Daisy had met him once at a job interview in St. Canard, several months before he was hired on at Duckburg's radio station, and never in her life had she met someone so annoying. His voice alone was enough to give her a headache for hours. His favorite topic was the supposed 'rivalry' of Darkwing Duck and Gizmoduck. He loved to tell tall tales of fights between them, detailing how deeply they despised each other. Quackers had to be exaggerating. He excelled at exaggeration.

Huey, Dewey and Louie were waiting in front of the school's entrance when she arrived and their faces fell when they saw her. She remembered that Scrooge had promised to get them on their last day before summer break and take them out for ice cream.

Daisy frowned as the boys trudged dejectedly towards her car, going over the last several weeks in her mind and realizing that Scrooge had been staying longer at the money bin, or working in his study until well into the evening. Before Donald had left the boys in his care those actions were probably typical of him, but they weren't so typical of him now.

"Hi, Daisy!" they greeted her in unison.

To their credit, they tried very hard to sound happy to see her. She gave them a regretful smile.

"I'm sorry Uncle Scrooge isn't here."

"He promised," Huey protested.

"It isn't like Unca Scrooge not to keep his promise to us," Dewey said.

"Yeah," Louie added.

"I know, boys, but he's still trying to find someone to fill in for Mrs. Beakley," Daisy said gently, fully aware of the little girl in the seat next to her. "Now, what do you say we go get some ice cream? We can take some back to the mansion for your Uncle Scrooge."

That perked them up a bit, but it was obvious they were still disappointed on the drive to Duckburg's Ice Cream Parlor.

* * *

"_As Scrooge McDuck is fond of saying, "I made my money by being tougher than the toughies and smarter than the smarties, and I-"_

"Made it square!" Donald finished the famous quote, rolling his eyes up into his head as he searched through the radio stations until he found one that _didn't_ have anything to say about his rich uncle. He settled on DT103 and went back into the kitchen.

Grumbling about what he would do to Filler Brushbill the next time he saw him, Donald lifted a stack of Quackerware and opened one of the cabinet doors to try and put them on the bottom shelf. He managed to get only half of the stack inside the cabinet. Cursing to himself, he dropped the others back on the counter and began to hunt for an empty space he could put them in, if only just to get them out of his sight.

As Donald stuffed them in with the glasses and pitchers, Quentin Quackers sounded even more wound up than usual as he introduced Dr. Swan, a 'leading psychologist' that had a two page spread in the weekly tabloid.

"_Today I'll be speaking to DT103's listeners about masked vigilantes. Who are they? What is it exactly that they're hiding? What made them decide to don a mask and place themselves above the law? In the next half hour, I will attempt to provide answers to the lucky listeners of DT103."_

"Ah, phooey," Donald muttered.

He would have been better off listening to more reports about Uncle Scrooge. What was the big idea with ducks running around in masks and disguises, anyway?

With a glance at the clock, he turned the radio off in disgust and settled back against the couch in the living room. He had just enough time to take a nap before he had to head over to his uncle's mansion and take Daisy out for dinner.


	3. A Clock is Ticking

**Author's Note: **I know it's been forever since I updated and I'm sorry for that, but I'm all settled into my new home and my muse is thankfully making a come back....

**

* * *

**

Chapter 2: _A Clock is Ticking_

* * *

Daisy stifled a yawn as she took a sip of her coffee. It was early in the morning, and she and Gandra Dee were sitting by the window in Duckburg's small coffee shop, enjoying breakfast and getting their much needed caffeine fix.

"Fenton called me last night. He's coming home tomorrow," Gandra said, smiling, but then her smiled faded. "I've been worried about him. Every time I turn on Duckburg Daily in the morning, Bill Avian is announcing some new crime wave in St. Canard, and Fenton spends a lot of time there. And I know Fenton's job as Mr. McDuck's accountant requires him to travel sometimes, but lately, it just seems like he's never home, you know?"

Daisy did know. It seemed like every time she turned around these days Gandra was informing her that Fenton had gone out of town for some sort of business related trip. She considered asking Scrooge about it as a favor to Gandra, but she doubted Scrooge would give her any details.

When Donald had arrived at the mansion yesterday evening to take her out to dinner Scrooge still hadn't come home. She'd left the boys and Webby in the care of Duckworth for the evening. Apparently, Scrooge had only beaten her back to the mansion that night by a mere half hour. According to Duckworth he'd said goodnight to the children and went straight to bed. His behavior was beginning to disturb Daisy, and she'd wanted to broach the subject with Donald at dinner and suggest that he talk to Scrooge, but Donald had brought up another subject, one that had proved to be quite a distraction.

Really, looking back on it, Daisy was disappointed with herself - she should have seen it coming! Donald taking the boys everywhere in town, the way he acted as though no time had passed since he'd joined the navy, and the toys he'd purchased from Brushbill…. She'd been a reporter for two years, for heaven's sake! How could she have let such glaringly obvious signs pass her by?

Donald wanted to move the boys back in with him, and he wanted to do it over the summer, before they went back to school.

He'd been so happy describing his plans to Daisy, grinning with excitement about making up his absence to the boys that Daisy couldn't bring herself to say all that she'd been thinking: _Are you sure you can handle having three children with you all the time again? Have you talked to them about it? Do they want to move back in with you? Does Scrooge know your plans? Have you thought about Scrooge at all?_

Donald could sometimes be thoughtless, though she knew he never meant to be. He hadn't been thinking all that much of the boys when he'd decided to join the Navy, and she wasn't sure how much he was thinking about them now, wanting to uproot them after they'd been comfortable and happy living with Scrooge for so long. She wasn't sure he realized how much of an impact they'd had on Scrooge, either.

Daisy wondered if Donald had seen the photo album the boys kept in their room with the pictures inside that contained the same four ducks in every one of them, even while the scenery changed from beaches and stone castles to caves and old ruins.

Not all of them were taken at exotic locales. One had been taken outside of the mansion in the winter, when the ground was covered in two foot of snow. Daisy remembered that Christmas - it had been the first she'd spent without Donald in years. It had also been the boys' first Christmas with Scrooge, and in the picture he was sitting behind them on a sled, and all four ducks, three young, one old, were wearing matching smiles.

The picture next to that one was taken in the summer, inside of Duckburg's ice cream shop. There was a huge bowl of triple mint ripple on the table where Scrooge, Huey, Dewey and Louie were sitting, and four spoons in the bowl. Daisy recalled Louie telling her that Launchpad McQuack had taken the picture after Scrooge had defeated Glomgold in some crazy contest over fruit - Scrooge was able to turn almost anything into an investment of some kind - and the atmosphere in the picture was one of elation.

Daisy shook her head, returning to the matter at hand. At first she'd figured that maybe Donald's plans could be the explanation behind Scrooge's recent distance, but then quickly dismissed it - he wouldn't still be looking for someone to replace Mrs. Beakley if that were the case. Donald clearly hadn't told him. She knew she needed to talk to Donald, find a way to suggest to him, in the most gentle way possible, that he wait a little while longer before bringing up moving the boys back in with him to Scrooge.

But then, she didn't know if there would ever be a good time to do that, because no matter how aloof Scrooge seemed lately, he was truly attached to Huey, Dewey and Louie. There was no doubt in her mind about it. Not anymore. There was also no doubt in her mind that Scrooge wouldn't want to give them up. Donald clearly wasn't expecting much of a protest from his uncle, but she was certain he was going to get it.

"You're thinking about Donald and the boys, aren't you, Daisy?"

Gandra's voice startled Daisy out of her thoughts, bringing her back to the immediate present, and she glanced down at her coffee cup and sighed.

"I don't know what to do with him," Daisy said to her friend, only half joking. "He's consumed with the idea of the boys living with him again and when he gets an idea into his head, he just doesn't think about anything else." She rolled her eyes and finished the rest of her coffee. "Enough about Donald, though, and me. How are things with Fenton?"

"When he's here it's wonderful." Gandra's smile lit up her whole face. "It's just so refreshing to be with someone who isn't pretending to be something he isn't. Fenton's so nice and thoughtful."

Daisy felt a little envious over Gandra's relationship with Fenton - it was still new to the both of them. Gandra had a certain smile that only appeared when she was with Fenton or talking about Fenton, and every time Daisy saw Fenton with Gandra he was as starry-eyed as a teenaged duck with his first crush.

Had she and Donald ever been like that?

"Fenton's a great guy," said Daisy, thinking of the few times she'd spoken to him. She was glad that Gandra had met and fallen for him. Gandra had went through a couple of bad relationships, including one with Bill Avian, and she deserved some happiness. Sure, Fenton was a little odd sometimes, but he was fun loving and loyal. Who couldn't appreciate those qualities?

Gandra's expression turned playful as Daisy finished off her coffee. "While we're on the subject of guys, Daisy, guess who I ran into earlier in the week when I went to look for a new car at the dealership in town?"

Daisy set the empty cup down and grimaced. "You don't have to tell me. And let me guess, he was the fiftieth customer and won a Porsche, right?"

"Actually, he was the one hundredth customer and won a corvette," Gandra informed her between giggles. "He asked about you."

Gladstone Gander. Related to Scrooge and Donald by a marriage in the family. By far the luckiest duck she'd ever known in her life. He stumbled across twenty dollar bills as easily as most ducks did pennies, won free food at restaurants, gambled and pocketed money on the first try, and apparently drove new, expensive cars off the lot without so much as looking for change in his wallet. He didn't have a job. He had no ambition. But he had all the [good] luck in the world. He was in opposition to Scrooge and everything he stood for, and was Donald's excuse to cuss like a sailor whenever her boyfriend saw him win something.

And he'd wanted to take Daisy out on a date for years.

"I think he believes that one day you'll just fall into his hands like everything else does," Gandra said, grinning at her.

Daisy shook her head in annoyed amusement. "Well, I'm where his luck runs out."

She and Gandra spent the rest of the morning together, continuing to talk about the male ducks in their lives. Donald was taking the boys to their baseball game in the park, so when Gandra asked if she wanted to accompany her to St. Canard to pick out furniture for her new apartment, Daisy agreed.

She needed to get her mind off of Donald, Scrooge and the approaching storm for a little bit, while the skies were still relatively clear.

* * *

Scrooge was taking an early afternoon swim in the bin, savoring the sensation of the coins sifting through his hands as he slowly made his way through all of his money. Normally, this daily ritual would have a calming effect on him, but today it only made him more anxious.

He only had one more appointment for the day and then he could go home, but if time slowed and the next two hours became four, he wouldn't have minded it. A sense of dread settled in his stomach; a chime tolling the hour that he would be forced to face the truth he'd only half-heartedly allowed himself to acknowledge.

Scrooge stopped swimming and reclined against the shimmering gold that surrounded him, closing his eyes. He'd woken up at his usual time and had gotten his normal eight hours of sleep, but he felt so tired….

"Unca Scrooge!"

He struggled to the surface of consciousness at the three familiar voices, his vision taking in blurry shapes of red, blue and green before sharpening and focusing on the small, worried faces gazing down at him. He sat up with a start, straightened his spectacles on his beak and rubbed his eyes, realizing he'd fallen asleep.

"Are you alright, Unca Scrooge?"

Scrooge smiled what he hoped was a reassuring smile at Dewey. "I'm fine, lad." He stood up quickly, too quickly, ignoring his protesting joints and the dizziness it caused as he did so. "Do you boys know what time it is?"

"It's one-thirty, Unca Scrooge," Louie said.

One-thirty. He'd been asleep for an hour and a half!

Scrooge gestured for his nephews to follow him as he made his way out of the vault and into his office. "Why aren't you boys playing outside?"

"We're supposed to meet Unca Donald at the park in a few minutes. Some kids from school are getting together to play baseball. He's gonna watch us," said Huey, his features filled with excitement. "We wanted you to come watch us, too."

Staring down at their hopeful faces, Scrooge wanted nothing more than to go watch them play baseball like Donald. It would be the perfect excuse to miss his appointment and to spend precious time with his family instead.

But in keeping the appointment he was ensuring that family's future….one without him by their side.

He shook his head. "I'm sorry, boys, but I have an appointment at two that I cannae cancel." At their hurt expressions, he added softly, "You can tell me all about your game tonight when Donald brings you home."

"Okay, Unca Scrooge," they said in unison, their faces falling as they stared dejectedly at him before shuffling away, their earlier excitement diminished.

Frowning, Scrooge watched them go, pushing the approaching feeling of guilt away and rationalizing his reasons to himself.

_It's good for the lads to spend more time with Donald, especially without me there. Better that they get close to him again, like they were before he left them with me. Soon he's going to be the only uncle they have left…… At least I know they'll be well cared for. And I know Daisy will take care of my darling Webbigail._

_If only I could fully trust that Donald will be alright with my money…… It cannae go to Huey, Dewey and Louie until they're of age, which means it has to survive under Donald's care for several years…… And what of my number one dime? Will Donald know to keep watch for Magica's spells and tricks? Will he _lose _it like he has other coins? _

"Curse me kilts," he muttered. "All of this worrying is giving me a headache."

He sank down into the comfort of his chair and rested his pounding head against the back of it. Suddenly, he desperately wanted his last appointment to be over. He wanted to go home. He wanted to go watch his nephews play baseball. He wanted this all too real nightmare to disappear and to only have to worry about keeping his fortune out of the hands of the Beagle Boys, his dime from Magica de Spell, staying one step ahead of Flintheart Glomgold, and winning the next 'Explorer of the Year' competition.

Scrooge gazed towards the door that Huey, Dewey and Louie hadn't remembered to close when they'd left for the park.

He wanted to live another lifetime so that he could see them grow up.

* * *

"Quackaroonie!" Huey exclaimed loudly, staring up at the kitchen countertop that was currently covered in a dozen plastic containers ranging from small to gigantic.

"Look at all that quackerware Unca Donald bought. Filler sure hasn't lost his touch," Louie said in admiration.

Sometimes he secretly still thought of being a salesman like Filler Brushbill when he grew up; he just couldn't tell his Uncle Scrooge, though, because he always sounded a little worried whenever Louie mentioned Filler.

Uncle Donald had taken them back to his new house and ordered pizza to celebrate their team's victory. After deciding on sausage and pepperoni with extra cheese, Donald had called in to have it delivered. Now the triplets were busy clearing off the kitchen counter to make room for the pizza, struggling to stack the quackerware into a leaning tower of microwavable plastic.

"There isn't enough room at home for all this stuff!" Huey exclaimed.

"I bet Mrs. Beakley could have found room for it."

Dewey had said it without thinking. He did that a lot….well, ever since Mrs. Beakley had….

Uncle Scrooge had told him it wasn't anything to feel badly about, mentioning Mrs. Beakley like she was still there. Like she was still alive. But Dewey hated it because Huey and Louie would go all quiet and Webby would always start crying. Their reactions made it seem wrong to mention her.

"Yeah," said Louie suddenly, breaking the silence in the kitchen, "she would have." It was the first time he'd said anything about Mrs. Beakley since she'd died.

"Yeah," Huey echoed.

All three boys were relieved when Donald came into the kitchen with their pizza and the subject went back to baseball.


End file.
